A Cross and A Snake
by DragonofDoom3
Summary: This is what is called, 'impulsive writing'. Random drabbles that vary in topic and characters, depending on my mood. Title comes from the sign that Ed has on the back of his red cloak. Rated for Language and perhaps violence in the future...
1. Dysfunctional

A/N: I've just started on the concept of drabbles and impulsive writing, so this is the little brainchild of all that. Sorry if it's bad, it's just a random idea of Ed's relationship with his father that popped in my head on the way home on the bus. Some of it is also taken from chapter 42 in the manga, where Ed meets his dad at his mother's grave.

Other from that…yup that's it. Just tell me what you think!

--

Let's just say that I had a dysfunctional father. I barely remember him, considering he spent most of his time inside his lab doing his alchemy research.

I used to admire him.

I used to want to be just like him, an alchemist, when I grew up. I always wondered what it felt like to change objects into what you wanted them to be, change coal into gold, water into wine, maybe even give _life to death_.

At least that's what he talked about. Mom hated it when he talked like that. She said that it was wrong, that he should try to use his alchemy to help people, not to chase impossible dreams.

Impossible dreams? Like the Philosopher's Stone? What does mom think of Al and I now, after all we've done?

People who knew my dad sometimes say I act like him.

It makes gives me a bad feeling in my gut.

I don't want to be like dad anymore. I hate him more than anything. I don't want to resemble him in any way.

And here I am, dog of the military, with a steel leg and arm as a souvenir of a failed human transmutation.

_What would mom say?_

I only started studying alchemy when dad left. I figured that if I started practicing good alchemy, like dad used to, mom would be happier. She cried so much when dad left. Alphonse and I hated it when she would cry. I thought, maybe I could be like dad, and study alchemy, she'd be happy. That she'd be the same, smiling mom that she had always been.

It was always for mom.

I saw dad a few days ago. He was at mom's grave. The Bastard at mom's grave.

I yelled at him to go. He doesn't belong here, not after what he had done. Leaving mom, leaving _us_, Alphonse and I.

Alphonse says I shouldn't hate dad so much. He says it's unhealthy. How could he know, he barely even remembers dad's face. He can't understand the grudge I have for him. He would say that dad has every right to be at mom's grave as I do. I still haven't told Al that I saw him.

Dad left, but not before pointing out that I copied his hairstyle.

God how I would like to punch that bastard.

Though somewhere in the back of my mind it would leave a bad taste in my mouth if I did. He's still my father, though bastard that he is.

Dysfunctional. Like how my automail can sometimes be. Or my head, as Winry often likes to point out.

Sometimes I wish that I didn't have to hate him.

That he hadn't left.

That mom hadn't died.

That Al and I had our old bodies back.

And it gets to around this point in thought that my head starts to hurt along with my heart.

--


	2. Midnight

A/N: Second drabble! This time in Al's voice. Hope you like it!

--

It's Midnight. About 6 or 7 more hours of simply sitting here, watching brother sleep.

Or thinking. Except when I start thinking, I start thinking _too_ much, and then brother gets annoyed when I start asking philosophical questions that I came up with at 3 in the morning.

But there really is nothing better to do right now than _too_ think.

It can get terribly lonely, with this metal body of mine. I've learnt to live with people staring at me and not being able to feel things, but it still feels incredibly lonely. Though I won't tell this to brother, or otherwise he'll start feeling guilty, and he's says he's onto something about the Philosopher's Stone, and I don't want to spoil his happy mood.

I sometimes wonder what I'll do when I get my body back.

First thing I'll do is pet a kitten. I sometimes stroke them with my giant steel fingers, but I can't feel anything, so there really is no point to it, I guess. It's just habit that I stroke them. I actually want to feel the softness of their fur again.

Then…then I'll go back to Risembool with Brother, and he can show Winry that he kept his promise and got our old bodies back again. I wonder if brother will finally tell her what he feels about her, I don't get it why he's so secretive and weird about it. Ah well, that's just brother…

Maybe I'll join the military, and start researching new forms of medicines using alchemy. I wonder if Colonel Mustang would have reached his goal of being Fuhrer by then. I don't think Brother would be that happy if that happened.

Come to think of it, would brother still stay in the military once he's done what he promised to do? He says that he's only in the military so that it's easier for us to access information on the Philosopher's Stone. I sometimes wonder if he'll ever give up his title as 'Fullmetal Alchemist'.

I hope brother and I can get our bodies back soon. We've promised a lot of people that we would, and we can't let them down. We have to keep going no matter what. I can almost feel that we're getting closer to the answer to reaching our goal.

But if anything, I know the first thing I'll do when I get my body back.

I'll cry.


	3. devil's magic

alchemy.

In the dictionary it's defined as, 'the process of the transmutation of one base material into another'.

It's main rule is that of Equivalent Exchange.

A win-win for both sides, supposedly. You give something for something that you want.

Like pieces of broken pottery for a vase.

Or perhaps a metal lamp for a sword.

Or maybe, just maybe…a leg and and a body for a monster.

An arm for a soul.

The Philosopher's Stone for a chance to live a normal life again.

The reality of alchemy is that it is nothing but the devil's magic.


	4. Left Alone

Ed closed his small, leather-bound alchemy book and lay his head back on the back of the couch. He closed his eyes for a second, resting them for a while. It was dark outside; not even the stars showed that night. Ed cracked his neck and stood up, yawning. He looked at his pocket-watch. It was 12:00 midnight.

"Jeez, I must've lost track of time. Winry should be at least done with my automail by now; she can't still be working on it." Ed thought, closing his pocket-watch and sticking it back into his pocket. He walked down the hallway and turned left, pausing outside the Rockbell's workroom.

He didn't even bother to knock before he entered, he simply opened the door and started, "Winry, are you still working on the damn-" His eyes widened softly at what he saw. Winry was slumped over a finished and partially gleaming automail arm, snoring softly, her soft blonde hair slightly undone out of a messy ponytail, her one hand clasped over a wrench which had small dents in it from the many times it had connected with Ed's skull. Every now and then she'd whimper, muttering something in her sleep.

Ed walked over to her and debated with himself whether or not to wake her up. He decided against it, saying to himself, "Feh, if I do she'll be all grumpy and will probably hit me over the head with that shitty wrench of hers."

He looked at her, and sighed, finally making up his mind. Though he was missing one arm, he somehow managed to get Winry to subconsciously wrap her arms around his neck (still holding the wrench) while he held her up around her legs bridle style. She was surprisingly light, making it a little easier for Ed to carry her up the stairs to her room.

He kicked the door open, and stopped. It had been a while since he'd been to Winry's room; in fact, he had never really been to Winry's room. Maybe once or twice as a child, but other to that it was a foreign place to him.

He took a step in, and saw a bed covered with a light blue, simple yet soft, comforter set on her bed. Next to her bed where magazines and books on nothing but automail, "Not much of a surprise," thought Ed. He felt a small pang in his heart as he saw a small framed photo of Al, him and her as children taking a nap in the living room of the Rockbell's home. He sighed, remembering the old days of his innocent childhood.

He moved over to place her on her bed, taking care not to wake her up.

He carefully set her down, but as he began to rise up to stand straight, he felt her arms that were around her neck tighten. "Please don't leave me now, Please dad, don't!" She cried, still half-asleep. A single tear formed from her still-closed eyes and rolled down her soft cheeks,

Ed's eyes widened again, and for a second he understood what she was dreaming about. His eyes softened as he said quietly, wiping the tear of her face and then loosening her arms from around his neck, "Don't worry Winry, I'm not going anywhere, I'll be right here." The wrench fell with a clatter as Ed gave Winry a one-arm hug, and she hugged him back tightly, still whispering, "Please don't go…please don't leave me like everyone else has…"

Ed shut his eyes, feeling furious with himself. Is that how she felt, left alone by everyone? By him? He felt a sadness gnawing away at him, threatening to spill out any second. He never wanted Winry to feel like that, he never meant to make her feel left alone.

He hugged her tightly, and whispered, "I'm not going to leave you again, I promise."

"Ed?"

Ed let go of her quickly, feeling a blush work it's way furiously up to his cheeks. Winry had obviously woken up by now.

"I…you had fallen asleep in the workroom and…um…" He had a hard time getting the words out, his cheeks feeling fiery hot.

He stood up, avoiding Winry's gaze. "Argh…nevermind. Just…Good night." He muttered, heading towards the door. If Al ever found out, he'd never hear the end of it.

Suddenly Winry's voice stopped him.

"Ed…please don't go."

Ed turned around, slightly puzzled. "What?"

"I…I was having a bad dream…and I'd feel a bit better…if you stayed in here with me. I mean, if it's ok-"

She stopped as Ed paused for a second outside her door, pulled out a chair and placed it next to her bed backwards, and sat on it, resting his hand and chin on the back of the chair. Winry stared at him for a second before starting, "Ed, are you sure you'll be comf-"

"I'll be fine, just go to sleep, ok? You need your strength to finish of my automail, I'll need it for next week."

"Huh? I thought you said you were leaving tomorrow, that's why I spent so much time working on it…"

"I decided to take another week of vacation, it's been a while since I've been here, and I think Al would enjoy to spend another week helping Granny Pinako. He really likes it here, it would be good for him. Besides, if Colonel Dipshit decides to have a fit about it, I'll just tell him that my automail needed a few more days repairing."

Winry laughed at Ed's original name for Roy Mustang, and pulled herself under the covers. "Ok…as long as you're alright sitting there…"

"I've been in worse places," said Ed simply.

Winry settled herself comfortably under her comforter, turning her body to face the blonde-haired alchemist sitting beside her. His golden eyes fixed on her, a protective look in them.

"Hey Ed," started Winry.

"What?"

"…thanks. For everything."

Ed turned his gaze away from her, muttering something like, 'whatever', yet even in the dim moonlight Winry could make out a small pink hue appear on his cheeks again.

She closed her eyes, and thought, _"I won't forget your promise Ed. I know you won't leave me forever. I'll just wait here until you come back."_

--

A/N: Some EdWin fluff for y'all! Because I love that couple (I think it's the best couple, next to RoyRiza.) I hope that Ed and Winry get together in the manga, though Arakawa-sensei has been hinting towards it…hehe. We'll just have to see.


	5. Midnight, Revisited

A/N: Don't know where this came up. I just felt like being a little philosophical. It's not really that much, actually. Ah well. And I kinda like conversations between brother and brother.

--

"Brother,"

"Hmmgh…Al, what is it?"

"I was just wondering,"

"Wondering what, Al?"

"Who was it that you met in the Gate…you said you met some person…"

"Oh…him. I'm…not really sure. He said he was the Truth…or something like that."

"So is he God?"

"God doesn't exist, Al."

"But then what was he? The Gatekeeper or something?"

"No…he seemed to know too much to be just some simple Gatekeeper."

"He said he was the Truth…then isn't he God?"

"I told you God doesn't exist."

"But didn't you say that he said he was the World as well? How do you know he didn't make the world?"

"He didn't make the world."

"Then who did?"

"What's your point Al?"

"I was just thinking…if he wasn't God…then who is God?"

"GOD DOESN'T EXIST!"

"…Brother…where do you think Mom's soul is now?"

"I…don't know. Heaven."

"But I thought that you said that God doesn't exist."

"He doesn't…it's just…wherever mom's soul is…"

"I think she's in heaven too."

"Al?"

"Yes, brother?"

"Please don't bother me with philosophical questions at 2 in the morning, okay?"

"Okay brother."

--


	6. A Cross is like a Burden

**A/N: This is a sort-a poem that reflects the title of this fanfic. It makes up a part of a 6-bit analogy of what the symbol of the Elric brothers mean. I hope you like it!**

--

A Cross.

A Cross is like a burden.

Something that you have to carry on your shoulders.

Something that is heavy, and it hurts.

The weight of it makes you want to fall down, give up, let go of it and die.

But you know that you cannot let go of the cross, lest you never fulfill your mission.

You stumble

You trip

And you fall.

But there is always someone there.

Waiting

Watching

Guiding

To help you when you fall, to pick your cross back up again, and carry on.

But you need no help

This is your penance for your sin

And no one else can understand it

You must do it on your own

A cross is like a burden

That no one else may be allowed to carry

--


	7. Dream or Reality? Pt I

A/N: hehehe...

Don't ask why I said that but…hehehe…

--

The sun filtered through the curtains of a boy's room. It crept slowly over the mixed up array of alchemical texts and train sets, over the rim of a soft bed with a light orange duvet, onto the sleeping face of a 12-year-old boy. It illuminated his round features, giving a soft shine to his light brown hair.

A soft voice called from downstairs. "Alphonse, wake up! Breakfast is ready!"

A pair of dark honey colored eyes shot open. Alphonse sat up quickly in his bed, knocking over several books that were already had been on the verge of falling off the edge of his bed. For a second all was confusion in his head, as he looked around the room in which he had been dormant.

_"My…my old room? What…wait…what am I doing here!" _ He thought, his mind spinning. He jumped out of bed, and yelled loudly as his feet felt the sharp sensation of a toy train. _"Wait a minute…since when could I **feel**?" _

Alphonse looked down at his hands, which weren't the large, metallic ones which he had grown so accustomed to seeing. These hands where small, slightly pale flesh hands, those of a young boy. He felt his face, and where he was expecting to feel cold metal, he felt warm cheeks, a small mouth, a pointed nose. He checked the top of his head; a full crop of messy, thick hair.

"What on earth, I must be dreaming!" cried Alphonse, running to his bathroom. He paused, closing his eyes, before looking in the mirror, somewhat afraid of what he would see. Then, mustering up a large bought of courage, he opened his eyes, and gasped.

It was him in his old body. For a second he didn't know who he was seeing, it had been such a long time. A boy with wide eyes and a shocked expression looked back at him. He reached up and touched his face again. _"I…I finally have my body back…"_

Suddenly the voice called up to him again. "Alphonse, your pancakes are going to get cold if you don't come down here quicker!"

Alphonse looked over his shoulder and called out quickly without thinking, "I'm coming Mom, I'm just-" He paused, suddenly realizing who it was that was calling to him. _Mom._

Alphonse tore down the stairs like a madman, calling out "Mom, MOM!"

As he rushed into the kitchen, the soft smell of pancakes and maple syrup invaded his nostrils. It had been such a long time since he had actually smelt something…Alphonse paused, treasuring the moment. Then his eyes caught that of a beautiful woman with long, brown hair tied in a loose ponytail looking at him with a look of worry. "Alphonse, you don't normally sleep in this late, are you feeling alright?"

Alphonse almost began crying tears of joy. "MOM!" he yelled, and rushed up to give her a giant hug. He began laughing, burying his head into his mother's apron, taking in her scent of cinnamon and sugar. "Well, good morning to you too," said Trisha, hugging her son back gently.

"Jeez Alphonse, you took forever to wake up today," said a rough voice.

Al looked up from hugging his mother to Edward, who was giving him a somewhat crude look. He looked at Ed's right arm, expecting to see wires and silver, but instead all he saw was flesh and blood. He stood there, gazing at Ed, who said after a while, "What, is there a bug on my face or something?"

"Ed, you have your limbs back!" Al cried out joyfully, running to Ed and giving him and hug. Ed let out a yell of surprise and said, "What the heck is wrong with you Al, I never lost them to begin with! ..Ack… you're choking… me…"

Al let go quickly and stared at Ed with a puzzled look on his face. "What do you mean, don't you remember Ed, when we tried the human transmutation you lost your arm and your leg and I lost my body…and then you transmuted my soul into a suit of armor…"

Ed looked back at his brother with a strange look. "When did I transmute your soul into a suit of armor? And since when did we try a human transmutation?"

For a second Al felt a strange sensation in his gut. "But…don't you remember…mom got sick…and we tried to bring her back…Don't you remember brother? You became a state alchemist, and you had an automail arm and leg, and we were looking for the Philosopher's Stone."

"Al, what the hell are you talking about?"

"But brother, don't you-"

"Who was talking about the Philosopher's Stone?"

A tall man entered the room, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hair pulled into a slightly messy ponytail, and as he sat down he took of his round glasses and began polishing them with a soft, white cloth.

Al stared at his father with his mouth open.

"Well, which one of my clever sons was talking about the Philosopher's Stone, hmm?" he asked again.

Hohenheim looked down as his younger son stared at him. "What is it Alphonse, do I have a bug on my face?" he asked good-naturedly. Alphonse shook his head, still staring, mouth still gaping. It was in reality the first time he had ever really seen his father.

Ed stuffed another pancake into his face as he mumbled, "Al'fonsh wash yellin' somefing abou' the Philo'shfer Stone…isn't da' jus' a myf?"

Hohenheim set his glasses down on the table as he looked at Al. "Well, the Philosopher's Stone is considered to be the greatest alchemic amplifier there is...why are you interested in it, son?"

Al looked down at the table as he said, "It's nothing, I just read about it somewhere…"

Hohenheim peered at him closely before saying, "Which book was it? Come to think of it, was it you who took my book on alchemical amplifiers?"

Alphonse opened his mouth to say something just as Edward raised a hand holding a forkful of pancakes. "That was me, I just borrowed it for the night."

Hohenheim held his chin pensativly. "I was wondering where that went…I spent the entire of last night looking for it. Edward, how many times have I told you not to take books without my permission!"

Ed yawned and got out of his chair, and stretched for a bit before answering. "Yeah, yeah, a gazillion times, let's just skip the lecture, ok dad?"

Hohenheim grumbled for a second before turning to a shocked Alphonse. "So, Alphonse, you were-"

He was cut off by Trisha calling softly, "Edward, Alphonse, can you go to Granny Pinako's house, I need you to drop off a few things!"

Ed gave a look at Al. "C'mon Al, let's go see Winry." Al nodded and stood up quickly, leaving Hohenheim with his mouth open to say something.

--

A/N: This is gonna be a continuing story, just so you guys know. I put it in this fanfic because I don't think it's gonna be more than 5 or 4 chappies long (it was another randomly-generated idea that popped into my head at 4 in the morning). Anyhow, I hope that you like it!


End file.
